𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞

TEN: A Sinclair Kiss.

CHAPTER TEN: A Sinclair Kiss

Mr Sinclair's voice flowed with a dangerous low tone that shook Duncan. Made the Sinclair siblings smile and Peyton's body drop to the ground like a fallen autumn leaf.

"Hey! What did you do to him?" Duncan ran towards Peyton's lifeless form. That was laying sprawled on the ground.

Mr Sinclair ignored him choosing to regard his two children, "I see you two have been amusing yourselves with the stray spirit and Belhevenor witch?"

Duncan muted their voices as he ran to Peyton's body. He cradled Peyton's head in his arms. He was relieved to find that he was breathing but it worried him to no end that no matter how much he was shaking his friend. He was not showing any signs of waking up or having any life in him besides the basic breathing. After all he'd seen so far back at his house with his family to now with the Sinclairs and their vampire like abilities. He was gravely worried for Peyton.

His blue eyes went dark as he fixed them on Mr Sinclair, "What did you do? Bring him back to me now!"

Ernest burst out laughing "oh shit, the male witch is angry."

"I said bring him back." Duncan spread his arms in a demanding posture where his palms were open and facing his opponents. "Now!" He heard himself roar. Thunder cut through the gray sky so loudly it spotted and cracking a dent on the ground the Sinclairs were standing on.

Duncan didn't even notice this, too focused on needing Peyton away from the monsters.

The Sinclair siblings however fell silent and looked towards their father for cues on what to do and how to react.

Not a hint of apprehension touched Duncan's smooth face, he simply bent his first knee. Charging at Mr Sinclair with anger and the intention of causing him harm.

The Sinclairs kept standing in place as they all watched him run towards Mr Sinclair. "His fruit is ripe soon the Belhevenors will not be capable of containing or keeping it from him." Harriet observed.

"Please. Those halfbreeds don't deserve that name. A few more years and the bloodline will be no more." Mr Sinclair said as he watched with great annoyance Duncan closing in on him. "Handle him." He gave a clear command with a dismissive wave of his top hat.

With a movement too swift for any human eye to follow, Harriet ended up standing in the space between her father and the Everton male witch. Causing him to collide into her chest and fall flat on his face.

"C'mon get up and face face me." Harriet said loosening her sleek tight ponytail.

Something in the way she said that made Duncan want to obey her and that scared him. The way he wanted to obey her command didn't feel natural, it didn't make any sense to him. He struggled to his feet and scrambled away wiping blood from his nose.

Harriet made an annoyed noise.

Her brother groaned, "handle him quick I need to go back quick and.." he stole a sideways glance to his father and managed to lie through his teeth with caution. "...help our dear beloved Harold with his studies."

"Fine" Harriet sighed and moved to grab Duncan by his collar and transferred her steel made grip to the back of his neck. Forcing him to look at her.

He tried not to but when his blue eyes met her blue dark gaze he melted at the corona of fire in them and the need to obey her was final. She placed her lips on top of his and kissed him, for that's what it took to compress and impact a witch. Any witch.

"You were never here, Peyton never called you for help. In fact this whole time you've been at home taking a nap. Your day was ordinary and anything that you may remember that could ripple to this field was just a dream. Do you understand?" Harriet raised her immaculate brows and waited for an answer.

"Yes I understand." Duncan echoed falling putty into her sudden warmth.

"What extraordinary things do you remember from today?" She tested, almost ready to let him go.

"A lot." Duncan replied robotically.

"You better not be losing touch anymore Harriet." Her father used a warning tone on her as if it was up to her when the curse would fall on them.

She frowned, tightening her grip on him. "Tell me everything extraordinary you remember." She ordered with a desperation clinging to her mental state.

"Just a dream where I saw Harold kill a man he looked like a vampire and then a boy who looked like Peyton called me a witch and left me with a locket for someone he didn't want me to hurt. But I don't know who then I woke up wearing the locket. When I woke up I saw my sister walk through a kitchen wall and together with my parents they left through the wall with a chicken. After that....after that. I don't remember. I think I may have taken a nap, I should be napping right now."

"What did your parents say, and what did the chicken look like?" Harriet's eyes were now gleaming bright and fierce.

"That they want to rid the world from Sinclair venom and the chicken was a rooster tied in the foot by a red ribbon. They called it a spy."

Harriet sighed with relief, her brother and father laughed, amusement in the way they did so. "And in the dream where was Harold standing?" Harriet searched for answers.

"I don't know but it was in the Forrest." Duncan said still in a robotic trance. He coughed once and his gaze wavered from hers but only briefly.

"Shit he's getting stronger, wrap it up he's said enough." Her brother panicked.

Mr Sinclair encouraged his daughter despite the truth in his Son's words, "ask him to describe the part of the Forrest to us."

Ernest sped to stand beside Harriet as he spoke to their father, "he's the first Belhevenor male witch in centuries father. Any more risks with him and our specie will go extinct sooner than we anticipate. Harriet wrap it up before he resists."

Harriet obeyed her brother, "You will not remember that dream. Now take your friend get him to his house and go back to yours. Don't talk to anyone or stop for anyone. Not until you reach your house and have a protein shake do you understand?"

"Yes I understand." Duncan said and after being allowed to he moved to throw Peyton over his shoulder and left with him to follow orders.

Not a damn thing on his mind.